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by KatieComma



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Cute, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Mac in glasses is the cutest thing ever you'll never convince me otherwise, glasses!Mac, macdalton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 05:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16340687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma
Summary: Jack moves in with Mac - cuteness ensues.





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [lavendersblues (lonely_lovebird)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonely_lovebird/gifts).



> As always, thank you to the beyond talented N1ghtshade for beta'ing for me!!! I really appreciate it! Also: their stuff is AMAZING and you should go read it immediately!!!... if you like Whump and Comfort and Team as Family. AMAZING. They will give you all the feels. ALL OF THEM!

Leave it to Jack to pack 90% of his stuff in garbage bags and the rest in old, unstable, cardboard boxes. Mac opens another crumbling box and peeks inside: an assortment of books, several of which Mac has given Jack for Christmases and birthdays over the years. Most of them are duplicates of books Mac already owns, plus a pile of old Westerns that look like they’ve been read too many times, and he begins to sort through them. At the very bottom he finds The Cigar Box, and takes it out reverently to set it on the kitchen counter.

“Alright, that’s the last one,” Jack says coming through the front door of Mac’s house, carrying a box. He slams the door with a well placed kick and joins Mac at the stack of boxes. 

“And guess what else I found hangin’ out in the front seat,” Jack teases.

“I don’t know,” Mac sighs, it’s been a long day. “A two week old burger?”

Jack frowns. “Come on, you know the rules: no food in the car.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a pair of black rimmed glasses. “Your specs, nerd.”

Mac grabs for them, relieved. “Great! I’ve been looking all over-”

“Well maybe if you weren’t always leavin’ ‘em everywhere,” Jack chides, pulling the glasses back playfully.

“That’s not really fair,” Mac counters, giving up on trying to wrestle the glasses from Jack, “since I’m not used to wearing them most of the time.”

“I think you should man,” Jack says, handing the glasses over. “You look pretty dang cute in ‘em. You should just ditch those contacts altogether.”

Mac rolls his eyes as he slips the frames onto his face and the world gets just that little bit less fuzzy. “Keep dreaming.”

“Oh I will,” Jack says, voice heavy with implication, one eyebrow lifted.

Mac just shakes his head. They’ve got way too much to do for that kind of talk, so he continues to dig through the box of books.

“Oh, this old thing,” Jack says, picking up the cigar box. “We could probably just stuff it under the bed or somethin’.”

“Why would we do that?” Mac asks. “Put it up on the mantel.”

Jack shakes his head and clenches his jaw. “Naw, that’s alright,” he says, throat suddenly heavy with emotion. “No need for that. We can hide it away in the bedroom.”

Jack’s been doing this the whole time. Trying to act like Mac’s home isn’t also his now.

When Bozer announced he was moving in with Leanna, the timing just seemed perfect. There’d barely been any discussion, it was just suddenly understood that Jack would move in with Mac. No questions, no long conversations, just a “when do you want to move in?” And it was decided.

But now, Jack is walking around the place like he’s only a guest. Tentative to put anything of his anywhere that isn’t stashed out of the way. Like he’s an inconvenience. It’s driving Mac insane.

“We don’t need to hide it away in the bedroom,” Mac scolds, “because it would be perfect up on the mantel.”

“I don’t know about that-”

Mac sighs, drops the books back into the box, and takes Jack by the shoulders. “Listen,” he says, staring Jack right in the eyes, “you need to stop doing this.”

“Doing what? I don’t know what you’re-”

“Yes, you do. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Mac says, “you need to stop pretending you’re going to be in the way around here. This is your place now too.” He lets go of Jack’s shoulders, grabs The Cigar Box full of some of Jack’s most precious belongings, all but stomps over to the fireplace and places the box on the mantel. “The way I see it, Jack Senior should have a prominent place here,” Mac says, touching the box softly, “because this is your home now too.” He looks back at Jack to send some reassurance his way and finds him choked up with emotion. “Is that clear Dalton?” Mac asks, trying to break the tension so they can finish unpacking.

Jack smiles, and shoots Mac one of those little winks that makes his heart skip a beat. “Sir, yes sir!” Jack says in his Delta voice. He even tacks on a little military salute.

“Alright,” Mac says with a smile, “then let’s crack some beers and get this mission over with.”

 

 

The last box is unpacked. Jack watches Mac finish stacking books chaotically on the shelf by the turntable. Jack is definitely on board with the messy decorating style. After all those years in the military he’d been glad to get away from perfect and neat and straight and polished. Sometimes he even rebels and doesn’t make his bed, until it starts to itch at him from years and years of reprimands that he just can’t shake.

Mac picks one of the books up. “Did you even read this?” He asks, holding up a copy of some science or history book Jack’s never looked at twice.

“No,” Jack barks with a laugh. “I bought it to start a conversation with some gal in a bookstore once.”

Mac laughs. “Yeah right, what were you doing in a bookstore?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Jack sneers, “I’ve been in plenty’a bookstores.”

“You were buying a magazine weren’t you?” Mac says, a knowing look on his face, sliding his glasses up into his hair. Not used to wearing the things on a regular basis, they irritate him and he’s always taking them off. Jack wishes he wouldn’t. They do look damn cute on his face. Black frames against a backdrop of pale skin, icy eyes, and golden hair; the most wonderful contrast. Plus they bring out his inner nerd, like he’s wearing his true self outside for everyone to see, and Jack loves that too.

“Would you look at that,” Jack says, changing the conversation, “just one thing left.”

Mac eyes Jack suspiciously. “I’m pretty sure those books were the last,” he says, indicating the shelf with a thumb over his shoulder.

Jack pulls the Telly Savalas painting out from behind the island in the kitchen. “How could you forget about my man here? We gotta find some prime real estate for him.”

Mac frowns and summons a small cough. “You know, I think I lost my… where did I put my glasses?”

Jack carries the painting over and steps into Mac’s personal space. He grabs the glasses and gently pulls them out of the golden mess of hair and sets them back on Mac’s nose. “What would you do without me?” Jack asks softly.

He hadn’t meant it to sound so serious, but Mac’s face sobers and he swallows hard.

“We don’t have to worry about that,” Mac says softly with determination.

“That’s right, cause I’m here to stay. And so is this guy,” Jack says holding up the painting between them. “So where’s he goin’?”

“Back in the spare room?” Mac suggests.

“The spare room?” Jack blusters. “That’s your little nerd lab and I ain’t ever gonna be in there. Nobody but you is. This here painting’s gotta have a place of honour. Just like pop.” He points to The Cigar Box on the mantel.

Mac shakes his head. “The Cigar Box is different,” he says.

“How’s that?” Jack asks.

“It has serious sentimental value!” Mac argues.

“So does Telly!” Jack replies, mock offended.

“It’s not the same,” Mac is wearing that face that says he’s not losing this one.

Jack holds the painting up against the wall in the living room. “Come on, he looks great right here.”

Mac hums and haws. “I like that wall the way it is.”

Jack growls in Mac’s direction. “Well he ain’t gettin’ stuffed away in your geek room back there, you’ll probably light him on fire… on purpose!”

“I would never do such a thing,” Mac says sarcastically. He steps in closer to Jack, long beautiful fingers on Jack’s arm to get him to lower the painting from the wall.

Jack obeys the silent command and sets the painting carefully on the floor, his fingers loosely gripping the frame to keep it from falling over. Those glasses get him so distracted sometimes he can’t even think straight. And right now is one of those moments.

Mac leans even closer, so Jack can taste his breath between them: the sharp tang of his favourite beer. Mac’s eyes are somehow soft and sharp at the same time, his pupils growing wider by the moment. Jack moves forward, his hand on Mac’s shoulder, then sliding up his neck. Jack closes his eyes in anticipation of the kiss, but the moment his eyes are closed the painting is snatched from his fingers and Mac’s warmth retreats suddenly.

Jack’s eyes snap open and Mac is walking toward the hall, painting in hand.

“Come on now, where you goin’?” Jack asks, following along.

“I’ve got an idea,” Mac says, “a compromise. Not in the living room, not hidden in the spare room; we’ll hang him next to Rutherford.”

Jack rounds the corner to the entryway just in time to see Mac lining the painting up on the wall next to the fake polar bear that takes up a large space near the front door. The fake bear that Mac has named after some nerdy scientist or another.

“Perfect spot, right?” Mac asks.

Jack nods. “I think so.” 

It will take some work, but maybe he really can think of this place as his home and not just Mac’s place. Seeing his stuff everyday when he walks in the door after a long mission will go a long way toward that goal. Pop keeping tabs from the mantel.

Mac quickly hangs the painting and stands back to make sure it’s straight. Jack steps up behind him, slips his arms around Mac’s stomach and pulls him into a tight hug.

“You think it’s straight?” Mac asks.

“Let’s hope not,” Jack says into Mac’s ear, “I like things a little crooked.” He plants a kiss on Mac’s temple.

Mac laughs from his stomach, the vibrations travelling up Jack’s arms and spreading happiness throughout his whole body.

Jack steps around to stand face-to-face with Mac, still holding him in his arms. “It’s perfect,” he says, looking into Mac’s bright eyes through the glasses that make him look so domestic and sweet. Sometimes Jack forgets all the shit they saw together, all the things Mac has been through. He just doesn’t seem as damaged as Jack feels.

They lean closer to each other, and Jack tightens his grip so Mac can’t slip away again. Lips brush, soft and rough at the same time. Jack realizes it’s their first kiss since he moved in. And it feels like coming home.


End file.
